“I do not need another wife, nor do I need more bimbos looking for a free ride. What I need is a companion who understands me. You, my beauty, seem to do just that. Stay with me and this will be the first of many gifts. You will never want for anything and when we choose to part company, you will be well provided for.”
Wow! Satan’s retirement plan? Nobody has ever given me a diamond before.
Sarah remembered Jason, standing on the deck of their boat, holding her hands. Keep these babies clear, Sarah.
Oh, hell. It’s a ring. I can’t do rings.
She pulled her gaze away from the stunning gem and glanced up at Hassan. His features had softened. He appeared so sincere. Only a man. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
His face hardened. “What?” Hassan stood and paced the length of the bed. “You are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met! No woman has ever said no to such a generous offer! What kind of woman says no to yellow diamonds and Sterling Roses? Would you prefer real estate…art…horses? Name it and it shall be yours, but I will not ask again.”
Ego alert! Damage control.
Sarah scrambled off the bed and stood in his way to stop his pacing.
“Hassan.” She kept her voice soft while she placed her hands on his chest. The rapid beat of his heart pounded under her fingertips.
“Woman, do you have any idea who I am?”
“Be quiet.” She placed a finger to his lips. Something akin to lightning flashed in his eyes. Pride and ego were definitely strong traits in this man.
He’d actually hit the roof when he thought I turned him down! I had no idea it would be so easy to manipulate you, Hassan. You are completely ruled by your ego!
Sarah spoke in a calm whisper. “I don’t care who you are. The stone is gorgeous. The roses are beautiful, too. But I do not wear rings. I would like the stone set in a pendant on a chain long enough to lie” She took his hand and placed his fingers between the valley of her breasts. “Right here.”
A smile curled the corners of his mouth and the lightning in his eyes simmered to a sparkle. “You are an infuriating woman, Sarah Stevens,” he whispered as he ran his hands through her hair to the back of her head and pulled her to him for a long, seductive kiss.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sarah could not get over the woman who stared back from the mirror. She marveled at the diamond pendant and how it sparkled around her neck. She wore a dark blue, silk gown. The plunging V-neck was perfect for showing off her assets, both old and new, while the length of the gown flowed to the floor with a long slit up her right thigh. She left her pearl necklace beside the bed, but was sure to wear the pearl earrings and bracelet.
Two weeks had passed since Hassan had given her the diamond and asked her to stay. He had been very generous, arranging for shopping trips with unlimited budgets so she could always wear the finest clothes when they entertained his business associates.
Hassan liked to conduct his daytime meetings on the fly bridge, overlooking the sun deck. He always seemed to want her on the sun deck during those meetings.
She usually gave him a hard time about it, but eventually complied in the end. Having her there provided a distraction for his associates and eventually led to him getting the better end of every deal. It was easy to listen in on his meetings if she acted the sunbathing trophy, so it worked out best for the team’s mission this way. Names were always mentioned, details were passed on the movement of Hassan’s associates and links were confirmed.
Chris’ link analysis work on Hassan’s organizational chart was coming along great because of her frequent sunbathing efforts.
Hassan generally conducted all his meetings in Arabic so he had no idea Sarah learned as much about him as she actually did, nor did he realize every word was being transmitted to an intelligence station set up on another yacht just out of sight.
Hassan seemed to adore Sarah the way a collector adores his prized possessions. She was merely another beautiful piece he’d collected. He had beautiful houses around the world, a stable of the finest Arabian horses and a collection of sports cars that would make Henry Ford weep.
A smug sense of pride washed over her. Sarah had managed to insinuate herself into the perfect position to collect a great deal of damning evidence against Hassan and his associates.
At times she had to remind herself about Hassan’s dark side. On occasion, she allowed her mind to wander and wonder what her life would be like if he were a legitimate businessman and not a terrorist financier. She could have everything she’d ever wanted, a beautiful home, money, jewels, fine clothes and a man who was an attractive, attentive and passionate lover. Love wasn’t a necessary part of the equation.
Why risk it?
When Sarah daydreamed about what-ifs, reality had a way of cutting in. Chris would do a status check or one of Hassan’s henchmen would give her a sideways look. She had to remind herself none of this was real. This was a job and would be over soon. Then there would be another job…another target.
At times like this thoughts of all her ex boyfriends brought her back to reality. Getting dumped and letting it affect her self-esteem led to being buried in her own fat. It had killed her spirit. That old Sarah needed to die. The new Sarah would give no quarter. The new one would burn through men and take whatever gifts they were stupid enough to give.
This is a much better arrangement. He’s using me and I’m using him. We both know it and accept it for what it is.
A knock resounded on the door. “Come in.”
“The Sheikh demands your presence immediately.” Kadeem spat. He always spoke to her disrespectfully whenever Hassan wasn’t around.
Several times she’d heard him say very ungentlemanly things about her in Arabic to members of the staff. She suspected he was trying to find out if she understood Arabic. She would always smile as though oblivious and then make a mental note to kick his ass one day soon.
Sarah stood quickly, nodded to Kadeem and flashed her most charming smile. “The Sheikh is so lucky to have such a dedicated errand boy.”
Before he could respond, she left the room in a rustle of silk and was on her way into the main salon where Hassan waited for her.
She smiled, quickly crossed the room to him and gave a deferential bow of her head. “I was informed the Sheikh demands my presence.” Then she whispered, “I have a few demands of my own, and the Sheikh will hear about them after his guests have gone.”
Hassan stared into her eyes. “There may be times I allow you to command me but, make no mistake, it is only because I allow it that you do.”
Sarah refused to back down. “You would think so, but perhaps it is I who make the allowances.”
Hassan chuckled and shook his head.
She had to throw him a little sass every once in a while or he’d become bored with her. So far, she’d managed to keep his favor and the team gathered great intel because of it. Sarah spent the rest of the evening in the role of charming hostess to the international mix of movers, shakers, Democrats and mobsters. These were the people financing terrorism and ninety percent of them didn’t have a clue.
“Hassan, there you are.” A portly, middle-aged man Sarah thought looked familiar grabbed Hassan’s hand with gusto and shook it vigorously. The young brunette with him gazed around the room as though she were looking for anyone more interesting to spend her time with.
“Senator Farlin.” Hassan smiled. “How nice of you to make it. May I present my hostess, Miss Sarah Stevens.”
Senator Farlin. I seem to remember a bit of a scandal with you and a Congressional intern. The woman beside you doesn’t look at all like the wife you publicly reconciled with.
Sarah reached out to shake the Senator’s hand and was met with a crushing handshake she hoped to never endure again. Shaking off the pain in her right hand, she assumed her most charming smile. “Welcome. It is very nice to meet you, Senator.”
“Hassan, I got a little somethin’ for that children’s charity of
yours in Iraq. I had a little get together at my place in Oklahoma last weekend and we managed to pony up a few pennies for the kids.” The Senator reached into the breast pocket of his beige, Brooks Brother’s jacket and handed a check to Hassan.
Hassan opened the check and, as was the Middle Eastern custom, commenced to make a fuss over it. “Oh, the Senator is very generous. On behalf of the children of Iraq, I thank you.”
He showed Sarah the check and to register anything less than amazement would have been impossible and rude.
Sarah couldn’t believe this American Senator had just handed a known terrorist financier a seven-figure check. She was sure to convey as much as she could verbally so Chris could get the evidence he needed to put a stop to this.
Sarah’s eyes opened wide. “Two million dollars on the Senator’s own account. Senator Farlin is very generous indeed.”
There were people in the world who were so anxious to say they were helping humanitarian charities they would write checks to anyone. Men like Hassan who bankrolled terrorists who used jets, cars, subways, busses and babies as bombs were only too happy to relieve them of their money.
There were people who would condemn the tactics she used to get her job done, but she felt more than justified considering the fact there were so many people in the world, influential people like U.S. Senators who were gullible enough to finance mass murderers in the name of humanitarian aid.
The night grew late and the salon became heavy with cigar smoke and the noise of big egos on good Scotch. Sarah excused herself and stepped out onto the deck for some air.
As she strolled along the deck, she greeted and spoke to several of Hassan’s other guests who mingled outside. She couldn’t take two steps without having some celebrity or millionaire bump into her. Tonight’s party was a particularly large one. There were fifty people on the guest list and all of them had shown up. Another twenty or so arrived uninvited but were made welcome all the same.
Hassan was by no means a good Muslim. A womanizer and financier of mass murderers, he still insisted on holding to the Arabic traditions of welcoming all visitors and seeing to their comfort.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Excuse me.”
Surprise and delight fluttered through Sarah’s system at the sound of Vince’s voice. Goose bumps rose over her bare arms. She turned to see Vince leaning against the railing, absolutely stunning in a black Armani tux.
“Oh. Hello, Mr. Hennessee. I should apologize for my behavior the last time we met. I’m sure I was simply overwhelmed by your presence.”
“No need, sweetheart.” Vince moved close and whispered in her ear. “You can paw me anytime you want.”
“Really? I’ll keep that in mind.” She gave him a flirty grin and raised one eyebrow.
Sarah couldn’t help the disappointment that flared through her when he pulled away to a more respectable distance. Vince pointed to her empty glass. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Thank you. White wine.”
“Really?”
“Unless you know someone who can make a proper Margarita?”
“I do, but he isn’t tending bar tonight. White wine it is.”
“Ah…Vince.”
Sarah nearly jumped at the sound of Hassan’s voice. “I see you remember my hostess, Sarah.”
“Who could forget her? I was about to get the lady a drink. Can I get you one, too?”
“Nonsense. You are my guest. Allow me.” Hassan kissed Sarah on the cheek. “Excuse me, my beauty. I trust you’ll keep Mr. Hennessee company?”
Sarah gave Hassan a deferential nod. “Of course.”
Once Hassan left, Vince leaned in. “Man, that guy has a gift for sneaking up on people, doesn’t he?”
“Uncanny stealth. He’ll be back any minute. So, how are the boys?”
“Very well, as a matter of fact, one of the reasons I’m here tonight. My girl is doing exceptionally well.”
Happiness bubbled inside her. “How wonderful.” Sarah sat on a nearby bench and motioned for Vince to join her. “Do tell.”
“She’s about to break someone’s heart.”
“Really?” Sarah smiled a wicked grin. “She’s a beautiful girl. It really is inevitable.” She removed a cigarette from her cigarette case and brought it to her lips.
Vince lit her cigarette. “Yeah, tell me about it. The boys watch her every day and cry themselves to sleep every night. It’s a matter of days for this guy. Could even be tomorrow.”
A wave of relief washed over Sarah. “How sad for him.”
“Yeah, but she needs a break. She works very hard at what she does.”
“Yes, I’m sure she does.”
“Your wine, my beauty, and Scotch for you, right, Vince?”
“Yes, thank you.” Vince stood. “You’re a very generous host, Hassan. Someday soon I’ll have to return the favor. Maybe then you’ll tell me where you found this lovely lady.”
Hassan lifted an eyebrow to Sarah. “Perhaps I should lend her to you?”
Sarah returned his tease with a hard glare.
“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid she’s far too much woman for me.” Vince glanced at his watch. “It is late and I have some business to attend to with one of your other guests. If you’ll excuse me?”
Sarah smiled and nodded to Vince while Hassan shook his hand and said goodbye.
I should have known you’d be stunning in a tux.
Hassan bid his other guests goodnight as he and Sarah watched them board their own launches to return to nearby islands and moored yachts.
Kadeem approached Hassan. “All of your guests have gone, sir.”
Hassan nodded and dismissed Kadeem. “Thank you, Kadeem. You may finish your preparations for tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Kadeem bowed slightly. “Goodnight, sir.” The way Kadeem scuttled off reminded Sarah of the cockroaches she’d seen outside her barracks in Texas.
Every morning she had stepped outside before dawn for her run and had to jump out of the way of at least two Texas-sized cockroaches. Kadeem reminded her so much of them and Sarah looked forward to the day she could crush him. A cell at Guantanamo Bay would be too good for the slime.
“Is something happening tomorrow I should know about?” Sarah turned to Hassan.
“Just business, my beauty. Nothing for you to be concerned with. I’ll be leaving early and returning late. The crew will be here to care for you. You should spend the day resting. You’re looking tired.”
Sarah ran one finger down his chest and gave him a playful poke in the ribs. “I should be offended, but you are the reason I haven’t had much sleep lately.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sarah awoke with a start when someone shook her shoulder.
Just Hassan.
The sun was barely on the horizon. Something was different. The sunrise was on the wrong side of the boat. Panic slapped her in the face. “Where are we?”
“Just off the coast of Africa. Dress in traveling clothes, we’re taking the helicopter to the mainland.”
“To Africa? I thought I was staying here to rest today?” Sarah stalled.
Vince didn’t say anything about this last night. I thought we had intelligence guys on the job? How can I tell Chris I’m moving? I hope we’re still within transmission range for him to hear this.
“What sort of traveling clothes? Formal or casual? You really need to give a girl a day to prepare for travel, darling.”
Chris, you’d better be listening to this!
“Wear riding clothes, my beauty. We’ll be going to one of my homes. I want to show you my stables.”
“Oh, how wonderful! I haven’t been riding in ages. How long will it take to get there?” She feigned enthusiasm. Adrenaline pumped through her and her gut told her something was very wrong.
“We’ll take the helicopter. It will be a short flight inland. Now, dress quickly. I have much to do today.”
“But I thought…?” He had already left th
e room.
Riding clothes, riding clothes…too many things buzzed through her mind and if she continued to allow them, she’d appear frazzled and worse yet, nervous around Hassan.
Get a grip, Stevens.
She slipped on a pair of slim jeans and then stepped into her brown leather boots.
Good thing I took advantage of those shopping trips. This turned out to be a long weekend trip with way too many wardrobe changes.
She threw on a white cotton collared blouse and tucked it in. Then, praying nobody walked in on her, she emptied her suitcase and opened the false bottom where her knives were stashed. She slipped one small knife into the scabbard sewn into each boot, closed the false bottom of her Luis Vuitton suitcase and then heard the door open.
“What on earth are you doing?” Hassan questioned when he saw the pile of clothes and the empty suitcase.
Sarah quickly covered as she threw the pile of clothes into the suitcase. “My pearls! I can’t find my pearl bracelet.”
Hassan pointed to the bracelet and necklace on the bedside table. “There, on the table. Would you wake up?”
“Well, I should still be asleep, shouldn’t I?”
Yes, a perturbed attitude should turn him on and make him forget what he walked in on.
“You keep me up all night entertaining your friends and then entertaining you, and now you expect me to wake up at the crack of dawn ready to go riding?”
She grabbed her pearl bracelet off the bedside table and clasped it on her wrist as she rattled on. “You might have given me some notice so I could lay my clothes out. My blouse hasn’t been ironed. I don’t even have time to do my hair.” She pulled her hair back into a clean, tight ponytail.
Hassan’s eyes became dark brown slivers under his furrowed eyebrows as the muscles in his jaw tightened and released. “I have decided I would enjoy your company on this trip. You test my patience. Do not make me regret my decision.” He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her roughly to him.
The Path to Freedom (Task Force 125) Page 20